


Oasis

by innie



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e04 All About Eve, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/pseuds/innie
Summary: "Any one of us could have been the distraction" — that had ended up being Lucifer, who'd let his hips go snaky and his laugh low and intimate in a guard's ear — "or the thief" — that had been her, getting to play what Lucifer calledLittle Miss Stickyfingers— "or the smuggler" — and that had been Maze, who'd whisked off her tie, fastened the necklace around her throat, and done the tie back up in the time it had taken a second guard to realize that the Desert Mirage was gone.[A reimagining of how Eve and Lucifer might have recovered the necklace in 4x04.]
Relationships: Eve/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Eve/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	Oasis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nowrunalong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowrunalong/gifts).



> My thanks to victoria_p (musesfool) for the beta and the title!

The Desert Mirage looks so good on Maze that Eve can't help wishing that Bashir's wife — Mira, he'd said, right? — could develop a little mild amnesia and forget the necklace had ever been promised to her. She's never seen yellow diamonds before, but when she'd been on Pablo's plane, her first thought had been that their color wasn't quite as nice as the citrons Lucifer used to bring her in the Garden or the honey he used to lick up from where it pooled in her mouth. Against the black velvet of their carrying case or the dark cream of Odessa's ample flesh, they had looked unimpressive. It takes the glow of Mazikeen's taut satin skin to bring out their radiance.

Around Maze's pretty throat, the necklace is in the safest place it can be. Maze isn't even breathing quickly — while Eve is _panting_ from adrenaline despite knowing that Maze and Lucifer wouldn't let anything bad happen to her — but the diamonds still sparkle as they move and catch the light. Here, under the soft starlike light of Maze's lamps, framed by the open collar of Maze's waitstaff shirt, they look like the exhilarating rush of a waterfall.

It doesn't seem fair that Lucifer got to pull on a tuxedo that fit him like a second skin and he got her all dolled up in a dress sparkling with the color and snap of champagne, while Maze was stuck in a plain white shirt that looks a little scratchy and plain black pants that look even worse — that's the only reason, Eve tells herself, that she reaches out to undo the buttons of that starched white shirt that Maze wears like an old pro.

("I'm the only one who's actually _worked_ in the service industry," Maze had said, when Lucifer had called her in to plot out how they were going to get the necklace into their hot little hands. " _You'd_ keel over before you had to wait on anybody else," she'd said to Lucifer, who'd shrugged like he didn't take it as an assessment of his character as much as a statement of plain fact, "and _you_ . . . I can't imagine that there was much call for a waitress back in Eden or the Silver City I've heard so much about."

"It's so much better down here," she'd assured Maze, who wore a wolfish grin. "I won't serve Adam ever again."

"Of course you won't, darling," Lucifer had said, that purr turning to a snarl. " _Men_." She'd looked at him then, and seen that despite her earlier words, he didn't believe — _couldn't_ believe, maybe — that she'd come back to earth for him. She hadn't met Maze when she'd told him what had actually lured her to Los Angeles beyond any inchoate desire for _life_ , but Lucifer knew her very well; he knew too how to bow out gracefully, though he was unaccustomed to the necessity.)

Maze just looks at her, eyes steady, as she unbuttons the shirt. Eve's never done this before, never had much to undo in the way of clothing at all, let alone shedding cloth to reveal the soft swell of breasts rather than the firm planes of Adam's or Lucifer's chests, and she tends to babble when she's nervous. "You know my favorite part? That we were such an awesome team, you know? Like, any one of us could have been the distraction" — that had ended up being Lucifer, who'd let his hips go snaky and his laugh low and intimate in a guard's ear — "or the thief" — that had been her, getting to play what Lucifer called _Little Miss Stickyfingers_ — "or the smuggler" — and that had been Maze, who'd whisked off her tie, fastened the necklace around her throat, and done the tie back up in the time it had taken a second guard to realize that the Desert Mirage was gone. "Don't you think?"

"Don't I think what?" Maze asks, and Eve remembers that this is Mazikeen of the Lilim, who'd stood at Lucifer's side for eons and never faltered, who has a reputation for playing with her food. Maze apparently takes no notice of the fact that she's been bared to the waist. Eve has no idea if Lucifer had said anything to Maze when he'd kissed her goodnight, or if Maze had heard his parting words for her after he'd kissed her in turn: _Don't hide your light, darling._ But all the light in the room is Maze's, standing straight and proud, draped in a fortune she seems to scorn.

Eve can't think enough to keep her mind on her own conversational thread; she just _wants_ , with as pure a rush of desire as she's ever felt. "That looks like it was made for you," she says, looking again at the harmony of jewels and nakedness. Lucifer, with his love of luxury, would have preened at the words and tipped his head invitingly back, and she, accustomed to abundance of the Garden, would have been charmed by the notion of one thing amongst all the plenty customized for her, but Mazikeen the stoic has no use for baubles or compliments.

"I'd rather _make_ something mine than be given it as a gift," Maze says, a challenge, and Eve keeps herself from smiling only by lifting her chin up to meet her. _Go on, then,_ she wants to say, but Maze is too quick. There are hands at the fastenings of her champagne dress, spinning her out of it as it's unwrapped from around her, and a mouth on her throat. The diamonds around Maze's neck are biting into the skin just below her collarbones, and she wants to feel them press into every inch of her flesh.

She pushes the open shirt off of Maze's shoulders and Maze moves up to bite her mouth with such fervor that they move several steps in that direction until the backs of her knees hit what must be a bed. It's just a bed in a room, not the decadent arrangement of silks and linens on which Lucifer tumbles the willing and sleeps, but Eve only cares that Maze is on top of her, diamonds an insistent weight against one breast. Maze has a hand inside the tiny satin triangle that counts as underwear now and one slender finger slides inside her on a wave of slick. Maze smiles against her mouth.

Eve pulls back to see it, and that's all she's capable of seeing, the luminous smile that was kindled when Eve turned to follow her out of Lucifer's penthouse, now in full flame. The second finger's push inside is even gentler and Eve squirms on them, wanting firmer pressure, a more insistent angle, and she slides down the bed a little, getting her hands under Maze's waistband to cup her bottom and her lips on the pebbled skin of an areola. Maze has never nursed a child, but she has held the most mighty and defiant immortal warrior to her breast; Eve is in exalted company. Maze's tongue and fingers lift her higher still, and she cries out, feeling like an explorer discovering something entirely new.

"That was just ripping off the wrapping paper," Maze says, her voice a low rumble in her ear. "Putting my stamp on something takes _time_."

"There's plenty left in these old bones," Eve says, drawing her panties down and spreading her legs, the better to encompass the fierce honed blade of this Lilim looking at her with light in her eyes. She touches her, gently, as she most wants to do, and Mazikeen shivers under her hands and dives down for another kiss.


End file.
